Yup. Still alive.
I must say that the past year had been really rough.
A few months ago, the whole family and I were caught up in a battle that we thought we would win. My youngest female cousin--Wendy--was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma, or 'cancer of the lymph nodes' in simpler terms. It was last August 2011 that we were given the news; we were told that it was curable, and as I'm also in the medical field, also believed it as such. Reading up articles about lymphoma, every book my pathologist/boss lent me was browsed--I was confident that she'll survive. Everyone in the family was supportive and had faith that she'll be back in school in no time, that we'll be able to hold her 18th birthday, that she'll be going to the university of her choice.
Unfortunately, those plans will never take place.
Her chemotherapy started in September up until October 2011. She had a few infections and was brought to the hospital immediately-- we were given the word that it was due to her chemotherapy. Then came October 31,2011. It's probably one of the those moments that will forever haunt me. The entire household was in chaos as we woke up to find Wendy having a seizure. I was frozen for a moment, then managed to get the car keys and hand them to my grandfather--I was able to open the our gate, call my aunt about what happened and even grabbed a few clothes and a pair of slippers for my uncle, who in his panic, managed to get to the hospital barefoot. Getting to the hospital and seeing my frail cousin lying in there was too much. A mantra kept resounding in my head: "Hindi ka pwede umiyak. Hindi nya pwede makita na malungkot o natatakot kayo." (I can't afford to cry, I can't let them see how worried or scared I was"). So I just smiled at her and said that she gave me quite a scare. I can say that she took a few years of my life back then! I asked her of she remembered anything, but she told me that she can't recall anything. She had 2 more seizures, and both of it happened before my eyes. I could only shout and call for help. My other aunt began crying as she latched on to me. She kept asking me what's happening--why was Wendy having those seizures--I could only hug her back and silently cried, answering her questions with 'I don't know.'
We were instructed to get her an MRI. And the results yielded broke my heart. Her lymphoma had metastasized to her brain. It was considered a Stage 4 cancer already. But we forged on; prayers were a constant, her chemotherapy was pushed through, we visited her as much as we could.
Then came November 21, 2011. Our dear Princess finally closed her eyes in eternal sleep.
I could never explain the pain we all felt. I will never forget how broken my uncle's voice was when he told me the news. I will never forget how my cousin--her older sister--told me not to say what happened. She caught me with tears on my face and began sobbing. I just held her as we both cried.
The following week was exhausting; physically, mentally, emotionally. I managed to get sick (fever, colds, cough! DX) but I still went every night to her wake for a whole week.
It's been only 45 days since she left and people can tell that the grief and pain is still fresh, and that we're still mourning her passing.
I must admit I shed a few tears here and there while sharing this :P but I can't help but smile too; Her battle with cancer may have been one of the most painful things I witnessed but it was the way she lived her life to the fullest makes me damn proud. All of our memories with her makes me quirk up my lips and place a smile on my face. She was one who can't accept seeing long faces :D
And now due to her influence and insistence, Nicki Minaj's Super Bass will never be removed from my playlist. :)
A few months ago, the whole family and I were caught up in a battle that we thought we would win. My youngest female cousin--Wendy--was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma, or 'cancer of the lymph nodes' in simpler terms. It was last August 2011 that we were given the news; we were told that it was curable, and as I'm also in the medical field, also believed it as such. Reading up articles about lymphoma, every book my pathologist/boss lent me was browsed--I was confident that she'll survive. Everyone in the family was supportive and had faith that she'll be back in school in no time, that we'll be able to hold her 18th birthday, that she'll be going to the university of her choice.
Unfortunately, those plans will never take place.
Her chemotherapy started in September up until October 2011. She had a few infections and was brought to the hospital immediately-- we were given the word that it was due to her chemotherapy. Then came October 31,2011. It's probably one of the those moments that will forever haunt me. The entire household was in chaos as we woke up to find Wendy having a seizure. I was frozen for a moment, then managed to get the car keys and hand them to my grandfather--I was able to open the our gate, call my aunt about what happened and even grabbed a few clothes and a pair of slippers for my uncle, who in his panic, managed to get to the hospital barefoot. Getting to the hospital and seeing my frail cousin lying in there was too much. A mantra kept resounding in my head: "Hindi ka pwede umiyak. Hindi nya pwede makita na malungkot o natatakot kayo." (I can't afford to cry, I can't let them see how worried or scared I was"). So I just smiled at her and said that she gave me quite a scare. I can say that she took a few years of my life back then! I asked her of she remembered anything, but she told me that she can't recall anything. She had 2 more seizures, and both of it happened before my eyes. I could only shout and call for help. My other aunt began crying as she latched on to me. She kept asking me what's happening--why was Wendy having those seizures--I could only hug her back and silently cried, answering her questions with 'I don't know.'
We were instructed to get her an MRI. And the results yielded broke my heart. Her lymphoma had metastasized to her brain. It was considered a Stage 4 cancer already. But we forged on; prayers were a constant, her chemotherapy was pushed through, we visited her as much as we could.
Then came November 21, 2011. Our dear Princess finally closed her eyes in eternal sleep.
I could never explain the pain we all felt. I will never forget how broken my uncle's voice was when he told me the news. I will never forget how my cousin--her older sister--told me not to say what happened. She caught me with tears on my face and began sobbing. I just held her as we both cried.
The following week was exhausting; physically, mentally, emotionally. I managed to get sick (fever, colds, cough! DX) but I still went every night to her wake for a whole week.
It's been only 45 days since she left and people can tell that the grief and pain is still fresh, and that we're still mourning her passing.
I must admit I shed a few tears here and there while sharing this :P but I can't help but smile too; Her battle with cancer may have been one of the most painful things I witnessed but it was the way she lived her life to the fullest makes me damn proud. All of our memories with her makes me quirk up my lips and place a smile on my face. She was one who can't accept seeing long faces :D
And now due to her influence and insistence, Nicki Minaj's Super Bass will never be removed from my playlist. :)